Healing His Wounds
by Kamilla Go-Go
Summary: Kaiya's a young medic. Heihachi's a broken man. Can she help him accept his past? Heihachi/OC. Rating may change later; we'll see! First fanfic ever, please review!
1. Sleeping beggar

Hiya! :)

A few weeks ago, I listened to Samurai 7 for the first time. And I fell head over heels in love with Heihachi. So, being an hardcore fanfiction fan (and particularly of fluffy romance and lemons... eh), I started to skim the internet to find the godzillions of lemony stories about our favorite gearhead. Only to find that there aren't that many Heihachi stories (or I couldn't find them, at least), and even less romance! (Have I mentioned I loved romance?) So my insatiable thirst for fluffiness and monkey love led me to... my first fanfic ever! Because I'm dying to see Hei-chan ALIVE and getting some.

**So, before you read, I have to mention a few things**:

**1.** English isn't my first language. I'm French (from Quebec)... and I really tried to write in French at first, but I listened to the anime in English and what I was writing just seemed plain silly to me. And no one betaed this (I didn't even try to find one, actually... couldn't figure why someone would like to do this for a newbie like me). So I try my best to write as close to perfect as I can get, but I know I'll make a whole bunch of mistakes. If you want to notify me on them, I'd love to, that would be much appreciated!

**2.** Not only is it my first fanfiction, it is also my first story ever (both in French and English). So my writing skills aren't particularly good (meaning they are quite poor), but I hope to improve as I progress with this story.

**3.** I also have no knowledge whatsoever about japanese customs. So I am in no way capable of writing this story while trying to stick to said japanese customs. I wish I could, but unfortunately, my knowledge on this matter is truly abysmal. I'll try my best to make it "believable" nonetheless.

**4.** I don't even have a plot outlined yet (organizational skills: -47). So I'm not sure where it'll get me. Feel free to make suggestions!

So, even with all those signs from the universe telling me I shouldn't be writing this, I thought I'd give it a go anyway. Hope you enjoy!

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from Samurai 7, which belongs to Gonzo, and I don't make any money from this story. Shaky plot, unconvincing original characters, kitsch lines and misuses are all mine.

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Lying on my back with an arm behind my head, I watched as the clouds lazily drifted to the west across the orange stained sky. Night would soon follow; it was even later than I thought. I sighed wearily and closed my eyes, lulled by the sounds of my cousins, Masahiro and Takeshi, who were respectively unevenly snoring and whistling off tone.

The boys had sold about half of their goods today, so I was able to lay in the back of our wooden cart with Masahiro, the youngest of the two brothers, beside me. Even though he was propped against a half empty bag of rice and his head was at the oddest angle, he was fast asleep and merrily snoring on: the guy could sleep through anything. I poked him hard in the ribs several times, but I knew it was no use: when I said nothing could wake him, I really meant nothing.

I sighed again and shifted my body a little lower so my legs, which were stretched in front of me, were now dangling a bit over the edge of the cart. I liked having my feet free of any pressure. It felt a little bit like flying, with the wind I could feel blowing softly between my toes. And, aside from any cheesy fantasy, it simply relieved the slight strain I felt after a day standing up to work.

It had been a tiring day.

As we did every Saturday, we had left our village, Chiyumura, just before dawn and traveled to the nearest city to open our little stand at the weekly outdoor market. There, my cousins offered a pretty narrow selection of farming products (mainly rice, milk and eggs) that their family was able to collect during the week. Unfortunately, with the actual state of things, business isn't all that good. Most people don't have money, and those who do, don't have a lot. So there are very few customers, who are all very cautious of how they spend what little money they have.

And while my cousins tried to sell their goods, I offered medical services to the townsfolk. Even though I am a qualified healer, I only offer basic medical care, simply because trying to offer more would be a waste of time and energy: as I said, people are so poor, they can barely afford to eat, let alone pay me to check on their health. Anyhow, the most usual problem is stomach ache, because they don't eat enough. So, they have a choice: pay me to tell them that in order to get rid of their pain, they need to eat more, or simply buy more food. Tough choice...

So, yeah. Tiring day, indeed.

"Oï! Masahiro! Kaiya!" said suddenly Takeshi, as he gave a tug on the reins of the ox that was strapped to the cart, pulling it to a stop. "There's a beggar that seems to be asleep on the side of the road... Do you think the guy might need help? "

I raised on my elbows, flipped on my stomach and crawled closer to where Takeshi was sitting, then tried to take a look at the sleeping man, who was about thirty feet away. In the declining light, all I could see was a heap of brownish clothes; the beggar sure seemed like a filthy fellow.

"Maybe. At any rate, checking on him can't hurt. Wouldn't like to think I may have left some poor sod dying all alone in the wilderness...", I answered jokingly.

My cousin chuckled. "Tasteless humor. Always appropriate."

With a slight smile, I stretched my limbs until I heard satisfying popping sounds and dragged myself off the cart. I walked around it and, as I started to head towards the beggar, I stumbled a bit on something. Frowning, I crouched down and took the offending piece in my hand: it was a long metal tube of about three foot and half. I looked at it more closely and saw there were many dents in it, as if it had been a part of a big machine that had suffered from a major blow up. Many dents. And blood. Lots of it. It had been so long since I saw that much... My heart suddenly started to pound loudly as I looked at the tube, and then at the man who was only now fifteen feet away. Was he badly injured... or dangerous? Did I really had to find out?

"Kaiya? You're okay?", called Takeshi, seeing that I had come to a halt and seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"Maybe", I answered again. But this time, all traces of playfulness were gone: my voice was shaking a bit.

Concerned, my cousin stepped down from cart and came to stand beside me. Noticing what I had in my hands, he took it from me and inspected it. I saw his blue eyes widen a bit, then he squinted them, his face settling into a serious resolve. He weighted the tube in his hand and swung it around a bit as if to test it. He told me to stay put, then walked quietly next to the man (who, we could now assume, was probably not an innocent sleeping beggar). Takeshi approached him behind what he assumed to be his back, waited a bit and finally gave a little push to the man with the metal tube. No reaction. Takeshi pushed him again. This time, there was a groan, followed by a pained gasp, but no aggressive reaction. Shrugging, my cousin told me I could come closer, if I wanted.

"Even if this guy is dangerous, he doesn't seem to be in any condition to be hurting anyone."

Trying to calm my racing heart, I started to walk again. As I got closer the two men, odours assailed my nostrils: blood, powder, smoke, sweat... I tried to reassure myself. _"If this guy's health is anywhere near his smell, I suppose Takeshi's right when he says he wouldn't be able to hurt me"_, I thought.

When I finally reached them, my cousin grabbed my hand and squeezed it. It gave me back some of my habitual resolve. I asked him to get the lantern back in the cart and to light it so I could take a good look at my patient. I took a deep breath to steady myself, winced when I remembered the particular perfume that emanated from the wounded man, and kneeled beside him. He was on his left side in an almost foetal position, with his back facing me. The clothes he wore, some kind of tunic with a military-looking vest, looked like they originally were different shades of brown and beige, but were now stained with so much blood they looked almost black. A brown aviator cap, complete with a big pair of goggles, covered a shock of longish red hair. I leaned over the body a bit to take a look at his face, which seemed to be permanently scrunched up in pain. I'm not really good at judging people's age, but I was pretty sure he was older than me. Since I'm nineteen, I'd take a wild guess and say he seemed to be in his mid-twenties.

Shaking my head a bit to try to clear it, I told Takeshi, who just came back with the lit lantern that he deposited on the ground, to take a gentle hold of his head and told him to follow my movements; we proceeded to turn the man on his back. I pried his vest and tunic open and I immediately started by a quick inspection to assess what needed immediate medical care. I was completely shocked by what I found. This guy was a complete mess. There was a deep gash on his right cheekbone, multiple superficial wounds and haematomas on his chest and abdomen and a serious injury on his left side that seemed older than the others but still needed treatment because of the lack of a proper care. But the worse of his injuries was his right leg: from a little above the knee to all the way down, it was completely shattered. He even had two open fractures. Well, at least, the state of his leg explained the presence of the metal tube: he probably used it as a cane.

As I reached down to move the leg of his pants up a bit to have a better look at his knee's condition, he let out a long grunt of pain that took me by surprise. I yelped and let go of his knee, astounded. How he could still be conscious after all this was way beyond me. Moreover, how he could have made it from who knows where to here, on this road, was unbelievable. Hell, how he was still simply _alive_ was a pure miracle.

I leaned over him again, staring at his face. His eyes opened, and I found myself staring into his beautiful brown eyes, clouded with pain, all sorts of pain. His face relaxed a bit when he saw me and he even let a gentle, yet sad smile grace his chapped lips.

"I'm... forgiven, then?", he breathed softly.

"Not sure what you should be forgiven for, but if you're in this state because of some sort of payback, I'm pretty sure you can be forgiven anything", I answered a bit shrilly, still unnerved by his sudden consciousness.

He let out a dry chuckle and coughed some blood. "Well, I get t-to... go to paradise... after all... and I've even got... an... an angel to get me there, and... she even makes j-jokes... Lucky me..."

All this talk about angels and paradise sounded too much like death to me. That kicked me back into action. I started to tear apart his clothes and mine to try to make some fortune bandages and get him out of here. I started to ramble. "Nope, no angel here for you. Only a medic. But I'm pretty skilled, if I say so myself. So, lucky you indeed, and try again for another chance to get to paradise."

"Don't think... so...", he rasped out. "So, this is it... eh? I've f-finally paid out... my debt, so I... I get to go..."

"Not yet... Not yet. You don't get to die on my watch. What debt are you talking about?", I asked, as I tried to patch him up as best as I could so we could move him and bring him back to the village to treat him properly. Keeping him talking was good. It meant he didn't die on me yet.

"To my... comrades. I can f-finally give them... my... l-life..." His voice held such sorrow...

"Why would you want to do that?" _"Keep him talking. Try to work fast. Gods, I can feel the precariousness of the situation start to pressurize me... Stay focused. Stay focused!"_, I thought desperately.

"S-so they can... forgive me." He suddenly grabbed my arm, stopping me. "What... what are you... doing?"

I shook my arm from his grip and started to work on his mangled body again. "Saving you, silly man."

He frowned, as if my words didn't make any sense to him. "But... I... I'm beyond... s-saving... I don't... deserve... t-to be..."

"Of course you deserve it. I've got you, now, so you're already saved." I said with a fiery conviction. With those words, I tied one last piece of fabric over his right thigh, to stop the blood for flowing down his injured leg. He let out a strangled yell and fainted.

And as I looked at him, I knew without a doubt that I would do everything I could to heal this broken man.

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So... first chapter! Woot! Thank you for reading! (Is it me or my introduction to the story seems as long as the chapter itself?... Oh, well...) I won't update for a few days for sure, because I haven't written any other chapters yet and I've got some pretty busy days ahead of me. But I'll try to get back to it as soon as possible.

Also, I thought I could make an illustration for each chapter (I really am better at drawing than writing...) What do you think?

Anyway, I could really use some feedback on this, so your reviews would be much, much appreciated! I would love you all passionately until the end of time.


	2. Waking up

Sorry I haven't updated sooner... I've got 2 jobs and work about 70 hours per week. Oh, flash news! As of Saturday, November 27th, I'm officially a godmother! Beautiful baby girl named Mathilde. So, t'was kind of a busy week for me! ^_^

Anyway, without further ado, here's the second chapter. Yay me!

I tried to do this one from Heihachi's POV... Hope you'll like it!

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**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anything, still no money, still insecure about the whole damn thing.

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I moaned and opened my eyes partly, only to shut them abruptly as soon as a blinding light hit my pupils. My head was pounding like mad and my whole body felt like ground meat.

Being conscious: definitely overrated.

I wished I could just go back to that grey, comfortable place where I couldn't feel anything. Anything at all... no pain, no culpability, nothing. Only endless numbness. Which was a state entirely enviable, considering how I've felt for the past few years. I may always have a pleasant smile stuck to my face, but deep down, it's an other story.

I'm a mess.

If anybody was to pay close attention to my eyes, they'd surely see it all. They'd see right through my act. They'd see my smile for what it was: a lie. But fortunately, nobody looks too closely. So I'm free. Free to pretend.

All those years of pretending everything was okay while trying so hard to redeem myself, knowing that it would eventually mean my own death... and yet, after all this, I was still here. Alive. Even though I shouldn't be... for so many reasons.

I never thought I'd make it, though. I mean, even if I didn't die instantly from being shot and being stuck between a Nobuseri's blade and a pillar, and then from the explosion of the entire floor containing the capital's main engine and my subsequent fall, I was persuaded I'd never survive. My body couldn't last all that long with the kind of injuries I sustained. But even if I was sure my end had come, I didn't want to exhale my last breath in this place. I had been surrounded by war and death for far too long; I wanted to escape all that chaos and madness and die in peace.

So I crawled from underneath the big scrap of metal that crushed me and made my way on the ground slowly until I found a metal tube that I could use as a cane. Then, I started to walk slowly and reached a little road. It looked like a battered trail, probably mainly used by farmers; following it would be easier than to wander into the forest. That way, I could get further from the crash site. It seemed like a good way to go.

I think I limped on that road for several hours, but I can't say for sure. I know I didn't encounter a lot of people, and the few people I saw never approached me. That suited me just fine. As I said, I didn't want help, I only wanted to get away.

At some point, I couldn't go on any longer; my pain was unbearable, sweat and blood were gushing out of me and my vision was blurring. I lost my grip on my makeshift cane and fell on the ground. Still, I started to crawl again, feeling mud sticking to my clothes and little sharp rocks tearing them. It didn't matter, because every centimeter between me and the battle counted.

Eventually, I couldn't move any longer. So I curled up on myself on the side of the road and slowly drifted to oblivion.

As I said, I was so sure that the stunt I managed to pull with the capital's crash would be my last. But it wasn't the case. I have no idea how much time I was out, but I half waked when I felt someone poking me a few times. I gasped in pain, hoping they'd leave me alone, but it seemed like that wasn't likely to happen. They turned me on my back, but I kept my eyes resolutely shut. I felt my clothes being delicately opened and butterfly-like fingers grazed my skin; even if the touch was light, I had to clench my teeth to keep any sound from escaping. Then, there was a tug on my right pants' leg. I couldn't help it: I grunted rather loudly.

A few seconds later, I felt a presence looming over me. I opened my eyes, and there she was. The angel's face completely filled my vision; I had never seen something so beautiful, it was glorious. Could she have come to claim me because I had finally atoned for my betrayal? After all this time, was I granted forgiveness?

I looked at her, fascinated by her pale round face that seemed afraid, yet concerned, and her delicate frame bent over my disarticulated one. Her long brown hair were softly brushing against my chest. Her petite silhouette seemed ignited, with the last rays of the sunset illuminating her from behind.

And then, she looked into my eyes with her own searching grey ones, and the spell was broken. She saw it all. All the pain that I kept locked in. I tried to give her one of my smiles, but I knew she didn't buy my lie; she saw right through it. I wanted to reach out and cup her cheek, and tell her that it didn't matter how I really felt. That it didn't matter if she couldn't forgive me. That I understood; after all, I couldn't even forgive myself... how could I expect someone else to do it?

But even after all I put myself through, I was still weak. I couldn't face her and tell her it wasn't important. Because it was. It was everything to me. The simple act of raising my arm up to her face seemed impossible. I wasn't able at all to close the door on my possible salvation. When I saw her, I was filled with such hope, a hope I wasn't able to let go of yet.

So I clung to it desperately, trying to get my angel to say that I was allowed to die in peace, knowing that with my actions and my death, I had paid my debt as best as I could to my fellow soldiers.

I don't remember what we talked about exactly. All I know for sure is the last thing she said to me: "_you're already saved_". Saved... that meant I was forgiven, right? Right? Gods, how I have longed for someone to say those words... Did she meant them? Could I finally let go of the burden I had set on my shoulders all those years ago? Was I allowed to?

My mind raced with those questions and my emotions overwhelmed me. I felt like crying... but even before I could give in to temptation, I felt as if my right leg was torn away from the rest of my body and I promptly fainted again.

And now, here I was: alive against all odds and thoroughly beaten up.

I didn't know where here was, actually. Instead of the rocks and half-dried mud on which I laid when I was last conscious, I rested on what suspiciously felt like a mattress. They had removed all of my garments (except for a scrap of cloth, which was wrapped low on my hips up to the upper section of my thighs), so I could feel a clean and soft linen brushing against my skin.

Holding my breath, I opened my eyes (much slower this time); when I felt I could take a look around without feeling like my eyes were melting inside my throbbing skull, I tried to recognize my surroundings. Sure thing was that I hadn't ever been in this place. I was lying on a pretty narrow bed that was covered with a white sheet. To my right, there was a small bedside table, on which sat a pile of clean washcloths and a basin filled with water. On the wall facing the bed, there were an incalculable number of shelves crammed with all sorts of things: books, bottles of all shapes and sizes, plants, books, strange things that looked like medical tools, books, strange things that didn't look like anything at all... Have I mentioned books? The small room was completed with a small woven rug covering a part of the wooden floor. The place was a strange mixture of cleanliness and utter disorganization.

I decided to try moving around a bit to have a better view of a door that was ajar to try to see where it lead. The moment I tried to move my body was the same exact moment I realized the extent of my injuries. And as I gasped in pain, I also realized that there was something decidedly wrong with me.

I _knew_ my right leg was shattered. Yet, I couldn't feel anything except a slight ache that irradiated from the bottom of my thigh. My ribs hurt a lot... probably two or three were broken. My torso and abdomen were itching and burning like crazy. My arms felt cramped and lifeless. My head was pounding. But my leg? Nothing.

With a sense of dread, I braced myself against the inevitable suffering that seemed to follow my every movement, threw the sheet off of my body and propped myself on my elbows to take a look at my wound.

I whimpered. The reason I felt no pain was quite simple. There was nothing left that could feel pain... I had no more leg. From about an inch above my now missing knee, there was nothing. Nothing at all. All I could do was stare in horror at my stump.

I had no more fucking leg.

My breath was now shallow and uneven. I was used to being injured, but losing a leg is an entirely different story; it wouldn't grow back and heal. I tried to remain as calm as I could, but failed miserably; I was panicking. Sudden discovery that you're missing a limb tended to do that...

Even in my panic induced state, I heard little footsteps approaching my room. Couldn't have thought of something better to help me contain my hysteria; I tried to never, ever let myself fall apart in front of anyone. So my instincts kicked in: I calmed myself, I looked up and saw the angel that found me on that road peeking at me. Well, obviously, she wasn't an angel... she was a mere young girl. She wasn't ethereal like I remembered; she was really pretty, sure, but more in a cute, bubbly way. She stood on the doorstep, fidgeting with the hem of her pale yellow kimono's sleeves. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she raised her eyes to meet mine and gave me a tentative smile.

"Hey there... You had me afraid for a minute, you know. When I found you, I wasn't sure I'd be able to bring you back to life. You were almost dead... How are you doing, now? I mean, I know you're not all that well and you won't be skipping around merrily anytime soon, but is your pain bearable? I gave you some laudanum, but it was kind of hard to estimate how much I should give you... Still, with all you've been through, I _had_ to give you some, to try to lessen your pain as much as I could, but I couldn't give you too much either, you know. An overdose isn't really what we aim for here...", she trailed off.

A mere young girl? I stood corrected: a mere young girl with a tendency to extreme rambling. I waved my hand a bit as if to hold back the assault of her words. She shut her mouth immediately, her eyes silvery eyes widen a bit and she blushed furiously.

Kind of charming, actually.

I chuckled. "Well, with that little bit of medical speech you just dived into, I suppose you're the one to thank for stitching me back together?"

She gave me a little grin. "Well, yeah. About that... Forgive me for not being able to save your leg. I tried, but there was just too much damage. It was infected, there were a lot of foreign bodies. I'd even say it was about to fall off by itself, because the muscles and skin around your knee tore and..." Her smile faltered. "I'm doing it again, right? Sorry. For the babbling. And for your leg."

I knew she was, but now that the initial shock was wearing off, I realized she didn't have to be. It wasn't that bad. Sure, I was now handicapped for the rest of my life, but I still had to try to find atonement in any way I could. Meaning I would probably find another battle to die in soon enough. So a few months without a leg? Not that bad, all things considered...

I shook my head to reassure her and put on my fake smile. I knew she didn't believe it the first time, but hey... old habits die hard. "Don't worry, it's nothing. Although legless, I'm still alive, and it's all thanks to you, Miss...?"

"Kaiya.", she supplied quickly. "Watanabe Kaiya. May... may I ask your name?", she added shyly.

"Hayashida Heihachi. Pleased to meet you, Miss Watanabe. Now, would you happen to have kept the metal tube you probably found near me? Or do you have something alike? In an hour or two, I should be able to limp around and be out of your way. You've already done so much for me, I wouldn't want to be a bother any longer. If you'd like, I could chop some wood for you before leaving. I know it's not a lot, but unfortunately, I don't have anything else to offer... The least I can do is give you back your privacy as soon as I can. I'll probably be able to leave before dusk..."

The more I talked, the sterner she looked. When I finished my little monologue, she marched into the room up to my bed and towered over me, her small hands on her hips.

"I have no idea how you intend to chop wood, considering the state you're in. And you're not even close to simply stand up. Not only have you lost a leg, you're also broken all over.", she thundered. "Now, quit being a martyr. You're not a bother, I saved you out of my own free will and I intend to do my job completely. Which means I have to get you to be able to walk and run as you did before I had to chop off your damn leg. So save yourself some self-pity for later, because the rehabilitation that awaits you isn't all fluff and fun."

With a huff of breath, she gave me a little vial of what I assumed to be more laudanum and gestured for me to drink it. I didn't dare argue with her and gulped it down obediently.

She took the vial and set it on the bedside table. She then leaned over my lower-half, her long hair dragging on my abs. My heart skipped a beat and I stopped breathing, wondering what in heaven she was doing, but she simply reached for the sheet that I had bunched around my only knee and pulled it back up to my chin. She then straightened herself, gave me a final glare and stomped away from me.

Just before she reached the doorway, she turned around, her cheeks still red from her outburst.

"And since that I've seen you almost butt-naked, please, call me Kaiya."

With those parting words, she slammed the door and let me to lie in bed, wondering about what the hell just happened.

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Oh... She's harsh with him. But she doesn't know even an ounce of what he went through, right? He just babbled some nonsense when he was half-dead...

I fear this is a rather corny chapter... Is it corny? Yes, it is. Oh, well... I'm still gonna post it that way. See what you guys think about this. Because you guys have an opinion, right? Let me hear about it. Please. Even if it's a critic (actually, particularly if it's a critic; I want to improve my story and my writing!). I know you guys are lurking in the shadows... I've discovered a wonderful function on my profile: story traffic! :3


	3. Three days

Chapter 3, here we go! Longest chapter ever, yay!

Still not writing as fast as I'd like, but, as I said, I work way too much and don't have a plot outlined, so writing is always a haphazard task. But it is kinda fun, never knowing what might pop when I get into a writing frenzy!

Anyway, enough talking! Hope this one pleases you guys.

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**Disclaimer:** Again, not mine, no money.

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I slammed the door with every ounce of indignation I felt. Who in hell the guy thought he was? I had busted my arse trying to save his sorry one and here he was, acting as if it had all been a piece of cake and he had never been on the verge of dying? I was positively fuming.

When I had found him, three days ago, I wasn't sure he'd make it. I kind of had the odds against me, with all those injuries he had. But still, I had vowed to myself I would do everything in my power to heal him. And so I did.

After he had fell unconscious because of the sharp pain caused by the scrap of fabric I had tied tightly over his wounded leg, Takeshi helped me bring him back to our cart. We each put one of his arms behind our neck and half supported, half dragged him. We tried to keep his legs from bumping on the ground, knowing it could easily hurt more his damaged limb, but the guy was pretty heavy and we had to move quickly. So I winced every time I heard a sickening thump, but knew it was best to just get it over with and worry about it later.

When we got back to our cart, we found that even with all the ruckus we had made, Masahiro was still sound asleep. I gritted my teeth and glared at his still form. Masahiro, who is eighteen, is like the little brother I never had... and never wanted. We bicker, argue and fight over everything, from politics to rice seasoning. I tend to try to boss him around and make him feel like a kid, which he hates. And he tends to be a lazy, careless, self interested and opportunist bum, which I hate even more.

So, aggravated by his usual lack of involvement in anything that didn't directly concern his wellbeing, I let Takeshi hold my patient upright and crawled quietly beside Masahiro. That done, I started to slap him over his head and chest.

Which successfully woke him up, even if in a foul mood.

"Why are you punching me, you crazy girl? We're not even home yet!"

"Because it's the only way to wake you up, you big oaf! Now, get down and help Keshi get this guy in the cart."

"Don't be so bossy, cousin", he snarled. "You know I don't... - "

"I know what you do and don't", I cut him off abruptly. "And right now, what you do is shut up and do as I say!"

"Calm down, both of you", interrupted Takeshi. "And Hiro, do get down and help me, please. This guy weights a ton, so I won't be able to get him in the cart all by myself."

Masahiro snapped his eyes to him and started to answer him, but the words died on his lips as he saw the state of the man Takeshi was holding up with a tight grip. Shaking his head angrily, he went to help his brother, while muttering about disturbed sleep, bloody sods and idiotic cousins. I bit my tongue to keep from retaliating, knowing we didn't have time for childish pettiness.

With Masahiro's help, we were able to quickly settle my poor patient on his back as comfortably as possible. I put a bag of rice under his calves to make sure blood was easily running through his vital organs and to try to reduce the blood loss from his leg wound.

The two brothers sat together up front and finally, with a loud click of his tongue, Takeshi made the ox start to pull slowly our cart forward. Our trip back to Chiyumura only took about forty-five minutes, but to me, it seemed like an eternity. The sun had finally set, so we were now travelling in the dark. Over our heads, the moon was only a thin croissant, but the stars were glittering light-heartedly, as if unaware that pain could even exist. My only other source of light was our little lantern, and its scarce gleam wasn't nearly enough for me to inspect my guy more closely. I knew his state was precarious at best and I was desperate for decent medical instruments, but all I had were my own two hands, clothes and useless draughts for cough or various superficial aches. I knew I never brought the little trunk that contained all of the medical supplies I needed right now, but I was angry at myself for not having it with me. I felt powerless and I hated it.

All I could do was monitor each and every one of his labored breath and his unsteady pulse. His heart alternated between racing and slowing down almost to a stop. He was also breaking into a full blown fever, as he was sweating profusely and his body shook with intense spasms. So I wiped tirelessly his face and clutched his hand with one of my own, while two of my fingers checked regularly his pulse using the vein of his wrist.

After what seemed like hours and hours, we finally arrived to Chiyumura and stopped in front of my home. While Masahiro stayed seated in the cart, brooding, Takeshi helped me drag the still unconscious man inside and we positioned him on his back on the simple bed in the spare room I had.

"You're sure you don't need me to stay with you? You might need help. Or maybe it isn't safe for you to be alone with that man... I have no idea why he is in that state, but it sure looks like he was involved in something dangerous. I wouldn't want to leave you alone with a crazed murderer", asked Takeshi with concern laced through his voice.

I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a thankful half smile. "Nah... I've got many hours of work before I'll need your help, and I'll give him some drugs for his pain, so he won't wake up for quite a bit. And besides, I don't think I need to be afraid of him, whatever the reason for his current state may be. Anyway, try to get some sleep, I'll come and get you to help me around dawn, I think."

My cousin nodded and went back to Masahiro. I heard him get back in the cart and muffled words exchanged between the two brothers covered the sounds of the ox's hooves on the ground and the squeaking wheels.

When I couldn't hear anything anymore, I knew I was finally alone with my mystery man. I allowed myself a tired sigh and rubbed my face. I gave him a onceover to determine where to start, then began to work as efficiently as I could.

After drugging with as much laudanum as I dared and stripping him down to his undergarments, I decided to get over the most gruesome work at first: amputate his leg. The limb was in an irremediable state; all of his main muscles and ligaments were severed and, because of the two open fractures and deep gashes, it was so deeply infected that necrosis was already starting to spread. I had no choice but to salvage what I could.

When I had finally stitched and cauterized his stump, I moved to the oldest wound that marred his left side. It was slightly infected because no medic had taken care of it, but even though it was serious, it looked like it hadn't touch any internal organs. So I cleaned it with alcohol, and, just to be sure, I set maggots on the wound so they could get any diseased tissue I might have missed and used bees wax to seal a pouch with tiny holes poked through it over the wound and maggots.

That done, I then took care of the deepest lacerations that ran across his chest and abdomen, cleaning and stitching them. As I had told Takeshi, it took me most of the night to get over this part of the job. I got out of my house and sat for a minute on my little porch, inhaling the fresh morning air. After smelling blood and alcohol for so many hours, the odour of damp grass and wet earth was refreshing. After stretching my arms over my head to release some of the tension that had set onto my shoulders and back, I removed my socks and my sandals, got up and made my way to my cousins' home, which was only two minutes from mine. Feeling the soil's wetness under the sole of my feet waked me up a bit.

Instead of knocking, I got directly inside and went to Takeshi's room, as to not wake up the other inhabitants. He was still soundly sleeping, so I shook him a little. His head poked from under the cover and I laughed softly at the sight of him. Everybody in our family looked alike: we mostly were all small with a frail frame, had brown hair and grey eyes. The main differences were that Masahiro, instead of being small, was tallish, and Takeshi had blue eyes. And one of his said blue eyes was now glued, which gave him a odd air of drunkenness, while his hair looked like it had been involved in a fight with a raccoon and lamentably lost.

"This is when I ask you for the help your offered me earlier, dear cousin mine", I murmured with a smile.

"Did I offered you help? I rather think not. If I recall correctly, I said something along the lines of me sleeping until noon and waking up to a nice breakfast you cooked for me..."

"Sorry to disappoint. All you get is waking up before dawn and bathing a smelly fellow."

He scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue a bit. "So you need me to wash your guy, uh? Delightful. I really wish we had picked up a pretty young lady, yesterday."

I laughed again. "So you could molest her? Over my dead body, you old pervert. Now, come, please, I really need your help. My patient is bloody, sweaty, dirty and smells like crap. I need to have him clean to continue treating him."

"Yeah, sure thing, Kai. Let me get my pants and shirt and I'm coming with you."

I went outside the house and waited for Takeshi, still grinning from our silly banter. He opened the door and we walked back to my home side by side while I explained to him what I had done so far.

"No way you're telling me you had enough nerve to chop a leg, but won't wash him out of prudery?", snorted my cousin, merely containing his mirth.

I turned my nose up and acted as dignified as I could. "I'll have you know that cutting limbs is way more distinguished than ogling naked men like a deviant."

Takeshi snickered, but said nothing more, for which I was grateful.

When we got to my house, we started getting buckets of water from the well and brought it almost to its boiling point. I then explained to Takeshi how to wash the wounds without damaging the stitches I made and how to prevent water from getting inside the pouch that contained the maggots. After that, I left him and went to get a little bit of sleep in my own room.

After about two hours, Takeshi came into my room and shook me gently. I opened my eyes and looked at him groggily as he handed me a glass of water and a bowl of plain steamed rice. I yawned, took them with a nod of thanks and swallowed both down in a hurry, because I wanted to get back to the job of mending my guy. I felt bad for falling asleep so easily, in case he had needed me. But apparently, everything had went as smoothly as possible. Takeshi told me the guy had been thoroughly washed; obviously, he insisted on the word _thoroughly_ and wiggled his eyebrows at me; I merely stared at him and he pouted, but eventually finished his report on my patient's state. While he had left him to dry completely, my cousin had changed the sheets of the bed and cleaned the room's floor. When it was all done, he had wrapped the other man's pelvis and upper thighs with a laundered scrap of cloth and had set him back in the now tidy bed.

I thanked him again for all he had done for me and gently shooed him away, telling him take a nap before starting his day for good. He waved at me, told me to come and get him again if I needed anything else, and sauntered back to his own house.

I went back to my guest room to take a look at the still passed out man. He sure did look a lot better than he first had. I let my eyes travel from his relaxed, good-natured looking face to the column of his neck, then to his broad shoulders, thick arms and large, calloused hands. His chest and abs weren't all that chiselled, but they were still quite large and well toned. A spatter of red curls trailed from his navel to the edge of his undergarments. His left leg was also bulky and muscular.

I swallowed. Hard.

So much for not gaping at handsome and mostly nude men.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, chided myself for entertaining such foolish thoughts and tried to focus on the task at hand. What was left to do was quite simple, actually. I applied arnica-based salve on every one of his gashes and haematomas, situated on his right cheekbone, chest, abs, back, upper arms and thighs, to help prevent infection and reduce the swelling and bruising. To maximize the effect of the salve, I rubbed it until it penetrated his skin completely. Then, I applied an ointment made of lavender and burdock leaves on his stump to accelerate the healing of the burn caused by the cauterization. Finally, I wrapped his thoracic cage, as he had three broken ribs, with supple bandages, and his left forearm was encased in a rigid cast, because of his cracked radius.

Also, every four hours, I made him drink an infusion, spiked with laudanum, that was rich in proteins, vitamins and minerals to make sure he still had some source of energy to help him recover. I poured it slowly down his throat while massaging it to stimulate his swallowing reflexes.

I continued working on him like this for the rest of the day and night, always keeping an eye on the state of his wounds, rubbing more arnica salve where needed, and checking his pulse, which was now steady and strong. I was still afraid that he may have a relapse, but until now, he had proven my fears to be wrong.

After all those long hours spent caring for my patient and getting almost no sleep at all, I was exhausted and was still functioning only thanks to a blend of sheer will and autopilot-like state. Being in that frame of mind left me with thoughts swirling in my head, especially about my guy's identity.

I did have my own theory, but I wasn't about to share it with Takeshi and make him worry even more.

Everybody had heard about what happened to Kanna Village, not that far from here, and those samurai that blew up the capital. And my guy was wearing some military looking clothes, though they didn't seem all that fit for combat. He also had a rather fit body, which indicated that he did a lot of physical work. So, from the looks of it, the man now sleeping inside my home probably worked for the capital as a guard, or maybe a mechanic. With the capital's destruction, he probably fell off, or even simply survived the crash, and crawled away, or something like that. Did that plausible relation with the capital made him an evil, dangerous man? Not necessarily. There were many men and women who were forced to work for the Emperor because of threats over their own lives or the one of people they loved. This situation might have obliged him to do some nefarious acts, which would explain all his delirious talk about needing to be forgiven.

Even though it all seemed like a logical explanation, I had to be careful around him. I'd have to wait for him to tell me exactly who he was and what had happened to him. And even if he was so badly injured, I'd have to stay vigilant, in case my nice theory was all bollocks and he decided to attack me.

But there wasn't any point in mulling over the matter anymore. So I tried to shut off my brain and work as smoothly and mindlessly as possible, continuing my ministrations without stopping.

The big highlight of my second day with my patient was when I removed the pouch and maggots from his abdominal injury and sealed it for good. Big highlight, indeed.

Aside from that, the hours passed so slowly I even stopped counting them. I barely slept at all and ate a few bowls of miso soup Takeshi, who was stopping from time to time to check on the situation, almost force-fed me. Beside that and the usual routine of salve, infusion and vitals check-up, all I did was sit on the floor with one of my hand gripping his tightly as if to support both of us. Sometimes, when his breathing was a bit uneven, I indulged myself and let my fingers run through his shaggy red locks. It seemed to calm him.

At around three o'clock during the third day, Takeshi barged into the room with a dictator-like air about him.

"You were complaining about your guy's smelly state. And now, you're the one that has such a powerful scent, I can almost taste it! Go bathe yourself. Now. It is a direct order from your superior."

I let go of the injured man's hand, crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at my cousin. "Good afternoon, Takeshi. I trust you had a pleasant morning? Relaxing? Enjoying life in general?"

"Sure did. The climax of it being when I washed all that grime from my now squeaky clean body. Which explains the subtle, yet enticing herbal scent that follows me around."

I groaned. I wasn't in any condition to keep up with his mischievous teasing. I was beyond tired, which usually meant I was a grumpy hag. "Go away, brainless man. I don't have time for this."

He cleared my dismissal with a wave of his hand. "Go ahead and make yourself decent. You look like a wild, frightful creature of the woods. Meanwhile, I'll watch over your sleeping weirdo, don't you worry."

I loved the guy; he may fool around and act like a silly smartass, but he is always there for me, is serious when I needed him to be and take really good care of me. So I accepted his offer appreciatively and went away to bathe myself.

It felt good to wash away my fatigue. And Takeshi was right... I really reeked.

Once I was done, now refreshed and smelling lightly of jasmine, I put on a pale yellow kimono with tiny white lily flowers embroidered on the sleeves. I tied a white obi over my kimono and put on white socks.

"You can go, now, Keshi!", I called over my shoulder. "I'm almost done. Thanks again for your help! I guess I would be a disorganized wreck without you."

"That you would, Kai, that you would. I'll be back after supper to check on you, if I can. See ya!", he said, and then he left my house.

Five minutes later, I was brushing my hair when I heard some ruffling and whimpering coming from the guest room. I instantly dropped my comb and rushed to the room. I came to a halt when my feet reached the doorstep and my brain froze. I found myself staring at the man who was now awake and seemed quite unfazed by the whole situation; he seemed to be waiting for me to do something. His brown, searching eyes really rattled my nerves, so I did what I do best when I'm nervous: I talked. A lot. And even as the words where pouring out in a seemingly unending stream from my mouth, I knew how much of a dork I looked, but I couldn't seem to stop myself, until he raised a hand. That shut me up quite efficiently.

He eventually fed me his little speech about getting out of my way as soon as possible and maybe chopping some wood for me.

As I said, that had irritated me to no end. And in my exhausted state, it seemed I judged the best way to inform him of my indignation was to yell at him, drug him forcefully and slam a door to his face.

Smooth moves.

So here I was, hours later, sitting on my porch in the dark of the night, feeling the cold seeping through the thin fabric of my kimono. I wanted to apologize to him for snapping at him, but I was still angry at his carefree demeanor. He really should take his health more seriously...

Instead of going for a formal apology (which would have flustered me, meaning I would have gone into a babbling frenzy again), I settled for a compromise.

I went back inside, grabbed a scrap of parchment, a brush and ink, wrote five little words on the paper and blew on it to make it dry faster. Then, I searched through one of the many shelves that where hung kind of haphazardly on the walls until I found the book I was looking for. I slipped the piece of parchment on which I wrote between the cover and the first page of the book, then went to the guest room.

I took the time to look closely at his sleeping face. It seemed more concerned than before, probably because he had woken up from his unconscious state. Laudanum sure helped with sleep, but coma was far better for one's peace of mind.

I heaved a little sigh and placed the book on the bedside table, beside the basin. I hesitated a bit, but eventually leaned over his sleeping form.

"Sorry", I whispered softly into his ear.

I straightened up, got out of his room and went to mine. I changed into some more practical clothes, ample pants and a fitted tunic, and I shuffled around a bit until I found my lantern. Then, I went to a small chest that contained various miscellaneous items and fished out an ancient looking iron key. I pocketed it, lit the lantern, got out in the night and walked to the unused shed my father had constructed many years ago behind our house. I opened it and settled the lantern on the nearest table. Dust that had been left undisturbed for such a long time was now lazily drifting around me. My eyes glided over the décor as if seeing it all for the first time.

Being in here made my heart constrict painfully in my chest, but my resolve was set. Without anymore stalling, I started to work for the remainder of the night.

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I think I'll keep switching back and forth between Kaiya and Heihachi POVs. I like to write what they're both thinking over the same situation. I wonder if it makes it redundant, though, because we have to go over the same scene twice... What do you think?

Just so you know, none of the medical descriptions I might make are meant to be totally accurate. They're made up from my limited knowledge and what I could pick up from different internet sites.

Oh! And I wanted to thank profusely Kyuzo-sama, theGrimmBunny and honoluluhawaii for their kind reviews (and for theGrimmBunny's congrats ;)). They mean the world to me! You guys rock!


	4. Acquaintance

Chapter 4! Finally aced ya, sucker. It was a really hard one to write!

(By the way, sorry for the delay. Work, Christmas and everything.)

I discovered that the function for anonymous reviews wasn't enabled on my profile... I fixed that! Sorry if anyone tried to review, but couldn't. Now's your chance... ;)

To theGrimmBunny: thank you for reviewing again and for your constructive appreciation, I wasn't all that sure about the POV thing. You're utterly awesome.

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Disclaimer:** What? I still own nothing and don't get any money from this? Shoot.

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Though it helped quite a lot with the pain, laudanum didn't make me sleep at all.

So even if my eyes were closed, as I was trying to relax and digest all that had happened, I wasn't unconscious when she had come into my room for a second time. I had felt her lips ghosting against the shell of my ear as she softly whispered to me that she was sorry. I had to restrain myself to keep from moving, as shivers threatened to take over my whole body.

When she had asked me to forgive her, I assumed she was talking about her previous outburst. Said outburst had been a complete surprise, not only because of the sudden anger that had radiated from her, but because of what she had said. I had been pretty sure she wanted me out of her hair as soon as possible. Yet, not only did she said I wasn't a bother, she literally ordered me to stay put and let her help me. Because she wanted to.

I must say I had ambivalent feelings about the whole thing. I couldn't believe I had found someone who wanted me around, someone who thought I was worth helping and saving, and felt like I didn't deserve it in the least. I wasn't sure if I had any right to accept her proposition (which, to be accurate, was more of a decree).

However, I didn't dare say anything about my surprise and doubts, lest she changed her mind and started to scowl me again and kicked me out of her house. I had someone that was willing to tolerate me, with all the flaws I possessed, with all the sins I committed. Although she didn't know about them yet, she was okay with me staying around her for now. That was more than I ever wished for. So, in spite of my desire to push myself over my limits and continue my travels, I decided to accept this much needed respite before having to wander in search of atonement again.

With those thoughts in mind, I tried to get some sleep. She did say my rehabilitation wouldn't be a piece of cake, after all. I kept hearing clinging, banging noises coming from somewhere behind the house, but I was in no condition to be roaming around to find out what it was. After about an hour of tedious waiting, I finally fell into a deep slumber.

I woke up during what I thought to be the late morning, judging by the bright light that came through the thin curtains hanging in front of the window on my left. After sleeping for a complete night, I felt much better. I was still hurting all over, but it felt more like a constant dull ache, instead of a searing pain, and my head wasn't pounding anymore.

The girl had changed some of my bandages while I slept. Since most of my cuts were already healing up pretty nicely, thanks to whatever salve she had put on them, they weren't sticky at all and they didn't itch like they did yesterday, for which I was grateful. I looked on my right and something on the bedside table caught my eye.

It was a plain little brown book, a brush and a pot of ink, probably left by the girl. Frowning, I reached over, took the book and opened it, only to find it was completely blank. A scrap of paper fell on my torso when I opened it; a few words were scrawled in a messy handwriting.

"_When you're ready, tell me."_

I wasn't sure what she was talking about: the reason I was in such a state or the real meaning of my ramblings when she first found me. I guessed that by her ambiguous words, she wanted to leave it up to me to decide what I wanted to tell and what I wanted to keep to myself.

I had to smile at her delicate attention. For all of her previous boisterousness, she sure had a thoughtful streak.

A male voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. "Thought you'd like to get some fresh air. What d'you say?"

As I wondered for how long I had been watched, I turned my head to my right and saw a small man, a little under his mid-twenties, with his arms crossed over his chest and one of his shoulder resting against the door frame. He was thin, but had the built of someone used to work physically. His brown hair were mussed all over his head and falling a bit over his eyes, which, though not unfriendly, had an appraising gleam.

"Uh, sure, thanks..." I answered, giving him an uncertain smile while putting back the note and the little book on the bedside table. As an afterthought, I added: "I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Hayashida Heihachi."

The man pushed himself away from the door frame and walked back in the room he came from while calling over his shoulder: "Name's Watanabe Takeshi. I'm Kaiya's cousin."

I heard a little bit of rustling coming form the adjacent room, then he came back inside mine and put on the end of the bed a pile of folded, clean clothes. They had managed to salvage my cap, my goggles, my gloves and my boots (though it was painfully obvious that I now only needed one out of the pair). The rest, though quite like my former garments, were brand new.

"There were some of your clothes that were completely ruined, but my mother washed what could be salvaged and sewed you some pieces of clothing that are close enough to what you were wearing when we found you."

I nodded thankfully. "Much obliged. Rest assured I'll pay you back any way I can when I'll be able to move around a bit."

He waved my offer way with his hand. "Don't fret over it, it's nothing. Here, let me help you get dressed", he said as he threw the sheets away from by body and took a beige sleeveless turtleneck off the pile.

"Uh, I... I think I'll be able to manage on my own... Thank you for your kind gesture, though", I stuttered, feeling heat rising to my cheeks.

Playing doll with a man wasn't on my to-do list of the day. Particularly when I was the one acting as said doll.

He guffawed, unfazed. "Oh, sure. With your broken ribs, the cast on your arm and your brand new stump, you won't have any trouble at all. Right? Yeah, right. Thought so. Now, do try to sit up so we can get it over with."

After a few embarrassing minutes, I was finally dressed with the turtleneck, a brownish shirt and a matching pair of pants, with the right leg rolled up, and a white sock. Takeshi looked at me critically, nodded once and chuckled.

"Y'know, dressing you wasn't half-bad... Scrubbing your arse was way more disenchanting."

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, feeling my face turn red, and finally settled on a self-conscious laugh while rubbing the back of my head. "I guess it was..."

"Here, let me help you get up", he said as he helped me stand up by putting my right arm around his neck and sliding his left arm across my back. "I didn't have time to make some crutches for you, so you'll have to wait a bit before moving around by yourself."

"Well, if you happen to have wood pieces, a knife, a small hammer and some nails, I'd be able to make crutches myself. I suppose you're a busy man, and it's not as if I had a lot of things to do...", I answered while clutching my teeth against the pain that was awaken in my whole body by standing up. I was afraid to crush Takeshi with my weight, since I was about five inches taller than him and was way more bulkier. Still, I had no choice but to lean on him heavily, as I wasn't able to support my own weight at all. He seemed okay with it, though, and helped me walk a few tentative steps. We reached the doorway of my room and, as I took a look around what seemed to be some sort of living room, I saw that Kaiya was slumbering in one of the corners on some kind of giant pillow, a still full bowl of rice lying forgotten at her side. Since she was sitting, her neck was almost bent in half, with her head resting on her shoulder; it definitely had to be the most uncomfortable position for sleeping. Even so, she was fast asleep: her breathing was heavy and she was even drooling a bit on her clothes, which made me chuckle a bit. She had changed from her pretty kimono to a midnight blue tunic with some beige pants stained with what looked like oil and dust. Some sort of grease seemed stuck to her hands and forearms, and she even had a smear across one of her cheek. Curiously enough, she was able to make her boyish attire still look feminine.

Takeshi snorted and shook his head. "You know, she does that a lot: she goes into a full-blown frenzy over something and spends days or even weeks almost without sleeping or eating, working obsessively until she achieves whatever has taken her fancy. She probably fell asleep two hours ago and will be up shortly to continue whatever little new scheme of hers."

"And she always manages to complete her projects? Has she ever failed?", I wondered aloud.

"Never. The projects, they were a thing she used to do with her father, but she kept doing it, even though he isn't here anymore. Her last fascination was about western footwear. Said she thought they were pretty. She spent about three weeks making dozens of weird shoes... I think she sold them at the market and never even wore a pair herself."

I wanted to ask about her father, but I didn't want to pry into their private life, so I stayed silent. We started to limp again and we finally set foot on the porch. It felt good to be outside again: feeling the sunrays brushing on my face was soothing and having the wind ruffle my hair was delightful. Takeshi helped me getting seated, with my leg dangling down the balcony, and plopped down beside me. We sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes before he talked again, his voice quiet and cautious.

"Listen... As you saw, Kai is the kind of girl that once she decides something, she goes through with it. No matter what. The thing is, she decided to heal you. But healing you brings back some memories. Bad memories. And there is no point in her having anymore bad memories, if I can have a say in the matter. So I don't know why you were so hurt, and I don't even know if you're a good guy or a bad guy. Either way, I don't have anything against you, but I do hate seeing her upset. And since your presence upsets her, I'd appreciate if you could leave as soon as you can, once you're able to."

He was speaking slowly, measuring his words carefully, as to not offend me. Also, since he was only telling me what I needed to know to understand the situation without giving me any personal information his cousin might want to keep to herself, I had to say my curiosity was highly aroused as to what were the bad memories Takeshi was talking about. Still, I felt like I didn't have any right to voice any question about it, so I kept my mouth shut and nodded in understanding.

"Good. I'll be on my way, then. I'll probably be able to bring you what you need to make your crutches later today. I could also bring you something to eat... What would you like?"

"Well, if I may trouble you so much as to ask for something in particular... Rice sure would be nice", I said rather hopefully.

He looked at me and my rather enthusiastic answer oddly, but didn't say anything. Instead, he only let himself slide from the porch to the ground and sauntered away, leaving me alone with nothing to do but mull over my own thoughts.

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I felt like the chapter was quite rocky and nothing really happened, but I didn't find any other way to get where I wanted to... Well, there it is anyway. Thanks for reading, everyone!

Reviews are love. Please?


	5. Talking

Chapter 5: alriiiight! Two chapter in three days! Never thought I'd get to chapter 5 so fast (I'm the kind of lazy slug that starts a billion projects and never finishes any...). But fear not, people, I'll finish this.

Again, thanks to **honoluluhawaii**, **theGrimmBunny**, **white dragon**, **Kyuzo-sama** and **ari** for their review. If I could, I'd marry you all, since I already love you guys passionately forever.

And,** ari**: I couldn't send you a PM, so here's a public acknowledgment: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'm really glad to know my plot makes sense and is interesting (even though I don't know myself where said plot will lead us...). As for the talent, well... you got me grinning like an idiot alone in my living room ;) Thanks! And if you'd like to point out to me some of the mistakes you mentioned, I'd sure appreciate it! You can send me an email: skamembert A gmail dot com.

And now, let the show begin! (What a grandiose opening.)

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Disclaimer**: not mine, no money; I'm just playing with the neighbour's toys.

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I woke up with my neck feeling like it was permanently stuck in a weird, crooked way and my cheek sticking to my tunic because I drooled while I slept.

Marvellously elegant.

I groaned and scrubbed my eyes a bit, frustrated by my falling asleep. I had only meant to take a few minutes off, wanting to eat a bit before getting back to work on my brand new project. I was really enthusiastic about it, but it seems I was also really tired, and I had fallen asleep even if I didn't want to.

Oh, well... It seemed to be only the mid-afternoon, so I didn't loose much time with my nap. I stretched my arms and legs to try to lessen the cramps I felt and stood up. I was excited to get back to work, but knew I shouldn't neglect my medical duties. Heihachi's life wasn't in danger anymore, but still...

Yawning, I walked to the guest room to take a look at the man, hoping he was still snoring on, but came to an abrupt stop when I crossed the doorway.

His bed was empty, the sheets ruffled. Some pieces of clothing where lying forgotten on the end of the bed. I walked over to the little book I left on his bedside table and opened it: not a word, it was still completely blank. Could the stubborn simpleton have left without a word, even though I practically forbid him to?

I stormed around, looking in every room, but he was nowhere to be found. I barged outside my house and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw he was simply seated on my porch. Though moving around wasn't a good idea, since it put a strain on his stitches, he seemed to be relaxed and much more peaceful, sitting outside like this, than when he was cooped up inside.

"What the?... What are you doing up? I _told_ you you shouldn't be trying to walk around for a bit!", I yelled at his back, fighting the urge to smack him on his head.

He turned around, a soft lopsided smile dancing on his lips. "Good day, Kaiya. Hope you slept well. I met your cousin Takeshi earlier, he's the one who helped me sit here. Sure feels good to be outside on such a nice day, wouldn't you say?"

My glare lost its power as I heard him talk like that. Oh, I was still mad for sure; only, my anger moved towards Takeshi, who couldn't mind his own business and let me decide what was best for my patient.

And anyway, the guy was far too polite and considerate for his own good. Or for mine, actually. I was used to be surrounded by blunt and indelicate men: my two cousins, my uncle and my father (well, up until he left). Masami, my aunt, did try to teach me to act like a lady, but I must say, even though she poured her heart in it (she only has her two boys, so I'm kind of a surrogate daughter to her), I was quite an inept student. I remained noisy, disorganized, clumsy, foulmouthed and, overall, unladylike. So, since I was so unused to having a man talking so civilly to me (well, without the intent of being completely sarcastic), it flustered me a bit.

"Uh, hi. Yeah, I did, thanks. And it is, indeed. Uh, a nice day, that is." Oh, by the way, my aunt also failed in teaching me the basics of mundane chitchat.

But he merely smiled at my discomfort and said casually: "Takeshi told me about your habit of having various projects, which is why we saw you asleep in your living room this morning."

Of course, the unasked question was what was the project I was working on. Or maybe he simply wanted to make a point to inform me that he really did see me drooling all over myself...

As I sat down beside him, I decided to focus on the last part of what he had said: "Yeah, well, I didn't sleep much while I was taking care of you, so I fell asleep easily, even if I didn't meant to."

"Again, sorry for putting you through so much trouble", he answered, while bowing his head at me.

Irritated, I was about to tell him that he shouldn't say he was sorry for something like that, but something caught my eye. The bandages covering his stump were slowly getting stained by his blood, which meant the skin, still raw, had torn.

"I _knew_ it wasn't good for you to be moving around so early!", I muttered irritably as I stood up to go inside and get some bandages, my suture kit, alcohol, the ointment I used on burns and the arnica salve.

"Sorry..."

I whipped around while pointing my index accusatorily at him, only to find he was grinning. I opened my mouth to retort, but the ridicule of the situation finally dawned on me: my irascibility, his overly, absurdly respectful attitude and our general awkwardness around each other. I dropped my hand and chuckled a bit, sent him an apologetic smile while shrugging my shoulders and went inside to get what I needed.

I scrubbed my hands and forearms as fast as I could, since they were still stained from my late night work, grabbed what was required to mend his injury and hurried back outside. I put my medical supplies beside him, jumped down from the porch and kneeled before him. Gently, my fingers undid the bandages, careful to not damage his stump any more.

It wasn't a pretty sight: lacerations that needed stitching ran on the end of his wound. I told him to brace himself and poured alcohol over it. I could see his right hand, the one which wasn't encased in a cast, gripping the edge of the porch, his knuckles white, but he was completely still and silent. I glanced at his face to try to catch his eyes, but they were tightly shut and his mouth was set in a thin line.

The first sting of my needle thrusting through his flesh tore a deep grunt from his throat, but he didn't utter any sound after that, his knuckles turning whiter the only indication of the pain he felt. I started to murmur comforting nonsense to him, trying to keep his mind from torture I knew I was putting him through.

It took about twenty minutes to get the job done. All that was left to do was spread the salve on his newly stitched gashes and, for good measure, some ointment on the cauterized parts of his stump.

After wrapping it with new bandages and putting back my medical stuff away, I sat back beside him and took his free hand in mine. He pressed my fingers so hard that it made me wince, but I didn't take my hand back. I knew he must be in a hell of hurting, and it was all I could offer him, so I let him ride his pain in silence.

"You okay?", I asked quietly when his vice-like grip hold on my hand got a bit more loose.

"Sure am. It was kind of my fault if my wound reopened... Takeshi is the one who brought me here, but I did try to get around a bit on my own. Since I think this is when I injured myself, I guess I shouldn't have", he said with a strained smile. Said smile looked pretty much like the first one he gave me when I first found him. Meant to be reassuring, but belying how he really felt.

I sighed, not surprised at all. The guy seemed to really have a bad habit of minimizing the seriousness of his wounds, physical or emotional.

I decided to try to change his mind to keep him from thinking too much about his pain. I wasn't sure what to talk about, though. So, while staring straight ahead of me, I rambled about the first thing that popped into my brain.

"You know, it had been a long time since I was in the shed back there. I mean, the one behind the house. Not since my father left, actually. He's the one who started this tradition of having various projects. We used to work together on all sorts of things in his shed: engines, medical salves and draughts, everyday tools, anything, really. If Takeshi told you about this habit of mine, I suppose he told you about the western footwear thing... At first, I thought it was an amusing little project, but he laughed at me so much for it, it wasn't even funny anymore. I finished it because I always complete whatever I start. But this time... well, it was more to prove him wrong than anything.

Anyway, ever since dad's gone, I carried on with the projects, partly out of nostalgia, partly because I love it. I love understanding how all sorts of things works, it's something I'm really passionate about. But I refrained from using the shed. Too much memories... There are good memories in there, though. The thing is, even though they're good memories, they make me think about my father. And thinking about my father summons other memories. Bad ones. So I stayed away from the shed, or, in fact, anything that could trigger those memories. As much as possible, that is..."

I stopped talking for a few seconds, but he was still quiet and holding on to my hand, so I delved into my monologue again.

"In any case, that's not the only thing I inherited from my father. I also became a medic because of him, that was his job. It was kind of logical, I guess, I was raised seeing him heal people. He's the one who taught me a good part of what I know. And since I love understanding how things work, it's no wonder I love medicine: the human body really is a fascinating machine. How everything works in perfect balance... I find it truly amazing.

Actually, my current project is linked to medicine. At least, partially. And it concerns you. I had been thinking about it for some time now, but I guess I never had the opportunity to pursue the idea. But well, right now... what I'm trying to do is devise a biomechanical leg for you. I'm not sure I'll manage to, though. Even if I have a thorough knowledge of anything remotely medical, this is far beyond anything I ever attempted to make. I don't have that many engineering skills, which I need to pull this off. I have loads of books, though, as you've probably noticed. Surely I have something somewhere that can be of some use... See, I didn't want to tell you about this possibility before I knew if I would be able to achieve it, because I wasn't sure I'd manage to do it. Didn't want to give you false hopes... But I guess it can't hurt either..."

After admitting all of these things to him, I fell silent. I didn't like to stir the past up, but it was what firstly came to my mind. I didn't know what else to share that wasn't completely uninteresting or overly personal.

His voice, low and rough, cut through the silence that had settled upon us. "Why?"

I looked at him, surprised. "Why what?"

He scanned my face as if looking for an answer. His troubled eyes settled onto mine, boring into them, as if trying to extract an answer directly from them. "Why are you doing this, Kaiya? Why did you exhaust yourself while healing me? Why do you force yourself to work in that shed of yours, knowing it hurts you to do so? Why do you try so hard to make sure I walk normally again, since it doesn't change anything for you? Why?"

"Well, isn't it the right thing to do?", I asked back, confused as to why my helping him seemed to be a bother to him.

He let a dry, humourless chuckle escape his lips. "I sure know about doing something because it is the right thing", he whispered to himself, with that sad smile of his. He raised his left arm and let his fingers graze the line of my jaw, making my heart flutter in my chest. With his thumb, he caressed my cheek a few times, then put his hand back in his lap.

"Smear of grease", he said while showing me his now stained thumb.

I blushed, feeling the heat radiate from my face. What could I say to him? I helped you because my heart was crushed when I saw how broken you were, inside out? I helped you because I couldn't bear _not_ helping you?

He wouldn't know what to answer me if I told him why I was so set on doing everything I can for him. Probably wouldn't even believe me... he'd think I was just joking or something.

He cleared his throat, trying to get past the uncomfortable mood that had settled between us. "At any rate, I thank you very much, and I guess I owe you more than ever. But if you're in need of assistance for this biomechanical leg, I could help you; moreover, I'd feel a bit less guilty helping you than waiting for you to get the job done for me... That'd be absurd. I've got some extensive knowledge about engineering, so I'm sure I could be of some use to you."

I nodded gratefully, as I was only at the beginning of the project and already felt a bit lost. I wondered if his admission of knowing a lot about engineering was a confirmation of my suspicions about what happened to him, but I didn't question him. He still had that little book I gave him on his bedside table and he'd tell me when he'd be ready.

So we sat quietly, each wrapped in our own thoughts, watching the sun set behind the mountains. I noticed that his calloused hand was still holding mine in a loose grip, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of my hand. It made me flush a bit, but he didn't seem to notice that he was doing it, so I wasn't about to break the tentative amity that appeared to have settled between us.

Alas, it appeared that said peace wasn't about to last long, as I saw Takeshi approaching. It was quite a sight, actually: he was holding two bowls of steamed rice, with chopsticks planted into them, with one of his hand, and the other, holding a bowl of rice too, was trying to balance a pile of long pieces of wood on his shoulders.

When he came near us, I saw him glance at Heihachi's hand holding mine, but he didn't utter a word about it. He dropped unceremoniously the pile of wood he had brought and said, while handing us two of the bowls: "I didn't have enough hands to bring my hammer and nails, but I figured you'd have these anyway, Kai."

"Sure do.", I acquiesced. I reached to take one of the bowls, but Heihachi wasn't moving. I turned my head to see that his eyes were glued to my face. His gaze dropped to our entwined hands, a comical fearful expression etched on his face, then rose back up to meet my eyes. Slowly, he released his hold on my fingers, his face reddening with each passing second.

I frowned and huffed as I began to eat, wondering if being seen holding my hand was so humiliating.

Takeshi snickered as he thrust the other bowl in Heihachi's own free hand. "Don't worry, my good man. I'm sure Kai is delighted to finally find hands manlier than hers."

"What! I don't have manly hands, they're just used to work", I fulminated. "Sometimes, I wonder if our family relation is enough to justify hanging with you anymore."

"Ah, but it definitely is. I'm probably the most helpful and charming sod you've ever set your eyes on."

"Most indubitably not. Well, at least, you feed me. Otherwise, you'd be completely useless."

"Last time I checked, that's not what you said. Let me quote you: you'd be a disorganized wreck without me."

"Must've been something you put in my food... I'll never trust you again."

"You're eating something I prepared for you", he pointed out as he sat on my right and began eating his own supper.

"Jerk", I grumbled with my mouth full of rice.

"Twit", he threw back at me.

I snorted, but didn't answer. I threw a glance on my left, only to see that Heihachi was being totally oblivious to our banter, his attention completely focused on his bowl of rice with a childish kind of enjoyment.

"You sure seem to like rice", I smiled.

"That I do", he answered with a little grin as he looked at me, pink still tinting his cheeks.

I held his gaze a bit, but turned my concentration back to my own meal quickly. The three of us continued to eat in silence, with the light rapidly dwindling and the only sounds being the clinking of our chopsticks on our bowls, the soft ruffle of the wind in the leaves and the occasional squawking of a bird.

* * *

Nobody said anything, but, just for the record: I know, I know. Kaiya doesn't really fit the bill when it comes to corresponding to what I could call the "female standard" set in S7 (kinda submissive, quiet, often helpless, dependant of the men's actions). But I like the idea of a strong heroine. With a bunch of flaws, sure, but with a determination and a mind of her own nonetheless. I like boisterous, intelligent, independent girls. Hence, Kaiya. So I'm not really sure if she fits into the S7 world, but there she is anyway. Have any of you thought to check what her name meant? I felt like quite a smartass... Eh!

Anyway, what do you guys think of Kaiya? And Takeshi?

Well, thanks for reading... and reviewing! It really brightens my day, and there aren't that many S7 reader, so each review counts! ;)


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